The Silent Treatment Part Two
by Muse2488
Summary: A Oneshot sequel to The Silent Treatment, but you don't have to ride the first one in order to get this one. Let's just say the silent treatment doesn't work well for either Wincehster.


**A/N: This is kind of like a sequel to my other oneshot, The Silent Treatment doesn't work with Dean Winchester, but you don't have to read that one in order to get this one. I love the fluff so here ya go!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dean or Sam. It makes me sad of course, but what can ya do? **

"Dean."

Silence.

"Dean."

More silence.

"Dean!"

Not even a scowl.

"So you're still not talking to me?" Sam asked.

Dean simply turned the T.V. on louder and Sam sighed. It had been about four hours since the hunt and Dean hadn't said a word to Sam since. The hunt didn't go as planned of course and Sam had gotten himself hurt. They were hunting a Wendigo in some backwoods town in Minnesota. A few hikers had gone missing within the past couple of weeks and it caught the hunter's attention. The last Wendigo they had hunted was years ago when they first started looking for Dad, but both of their instincts kicked in immediately. They had found its nest and one surviving hiker. After assuring the surviving hiker that they would distract the beast they urged him to run, once the hiker was gone Sam and Dean started taunting the Wendigo, luring it to where they were so they could torch the sucker. The Wendigo came quickly and set its sights on Dean, who was supposed to be the one to torch it but was suddenly having problems with the lighter. The creature raised its claws to come down on Dean but Sam pushed Dean out of the way, taking the blow. Claws raked down his back and Sam cried out in pain. Dean finally got the lighter to work and set the beast aflame.

The walk back to the Impala was excruciating for Sam. His back felt as if it too had been set aflame. It took nearly three hours because of the slow pace they had set and the moment they were in the car Dean started in on Sam. He started off with the normal, 'I can't believe how reckless you were!' and 'What the hell were you thinking Sam?' and 'Do I look like a friggin' damsel in distress?' and Sam's personal favorite, 'I had everything under control!' which of course was a lie considering if it wasn't for Sam, Dean would've been dead. It didn't matter though; Dean was the one who was supposed to do the saving, not the other way around. Once they were in the motel Dean patched his brother up. Luckily stitches were not required so Dean cleaned the claw marks with rubbing alcohol and peroxide, then placed double the amount of gauze needed and forced some pain pills down his little brothers throat. Sam fought the sleep that he needed; wanting to make sure Dean wasn't still mad at him. And apparently Dean was still very much so angry.

Dean was such a hypocrite. Sam was never allowed to be angry when Dean took a blow, or a bullet, or an arrow (don't ask), but the moment Sam did the same for Dean, Dean decided it wasn't okay. Sam understood where Dean was coming from of course because Sam had been in Dean's shoes many times. It was frustrating when Dean pushed Sam out of the way and got shot instead. Sam was a grown up now, no longer the little brother Dean needed to look out for. But did Dean see it that way? No. Sam was still five in Dean's eyes, at least that's the way Sam saw it. Dean would've done the same thing Sam did if their roles had been reversed. But then again, Sam would've been just as pissed as Dean currently was. So now the question was how to get Dean to start talking to Sam again. Sam sat up a bit straighter on the bed and hissed in pain as the movement had his back scraping against the headboard harder than he had intended. Dean whipped his head towards his brother and gave him a look.

"M'fine." Sam said.

Dean only narrowed his eyes before getting up, crossing to the little table in the corner and grabbing a few more pain killers and then handed them to Sam. Sam didn't take them.

"Sam…take the damn pills." Dean said gruffly.

"I don't need them."

"Did I ask for your opinion?"

"Did I ask for the pills?" Sam countered.

"Sam, take them now." Dean said in his 'I'm the big brother and I'm not gonna tell you again' voice. When Sam still didn't grab the pills Dean narrowed his eyes at his little brother before grabbing Sam's hands and forcing the pills into them.

"Are you really that pissed?" Sam asked.

"What do you think?" Dean retorted.

"I was thinking that a 'thank you' was in order." Sam said.

"Thank you? Are friggin' kidding me? Sam, you almost got yourself killed!"

"Yeah, saving your ass!"

"Who asked you to save my ass? I had it under control!" Dean shouted.

"If you had it under control then how come you almost became Wendigo food?" Sam countered.

"I was just…having a bit of trouble."

"A bit? You barely lit that thing on fire and if I hadn't of pushed you out of the way you would…" Sam cut himself off.

"Awe, Sammy…" Dean said and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Just…stop almost dying okay?" Sam said giving Dean a blast of puppy dog eyes. Dean rolled his eyes but his lips quirked up slightly.

"Yeah…you too alright?" Dean said as he turned to go back to his own bed.

"Hey." Sam said stopping Dean. Dean turned.

"What?"

"Got you to talk." Sam said with a grin.

"Whatever bitch."

"Right back at ya jerk."


End file.
